Time to Grow up
by Elie.N.P
Summary: She ran away once again, away from the Institute, away from her friends, away from a world which couldn't understand her. But what if, in fact, she was the one who didn't understand well the situation?  a little AU  One-shot. No flames, please.


**Well, this is my first attempt with the characters of the X-men series. I'm fond of the pairing Rogue/Gambit even if this one-shot is more about Rogue's internal demons. Very angsty I must admit - and yet I'm the first to look for non-angsty one-shot about them figure... **

**English isn't my native language so I hope I didn't make too much mistakes. And I didn't write their accents, by reading other fanfictions I more or less understand which are their specialities but I prefer not to risk myself with that. **

**Enjoy your reading ! - and review if you want it always makes the writer smile =]**

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><p><span>Time to Grow up<span>

The sky was dark, the rain fell hard, the wind furiously blew, every sane soul would wish to get to the nearest dry place as soon as possible. The storm was wild, staying outside was stupid, very very stupid, and yet a figure was walking alone along the streets. She hadn't quickened her pace when the sky had darkened, nor had she put her hood on when the rain had started. The curious looks the passers-by gave her went unnoticed as the young woman only stared at her feet. She didn't seem lost albeit it was obvious she was wandering aimlessly.

"Damn the rain," she cussed when a car drove past her, drenching her on its way.

She didn't bother to wipe the water away, more would come anyway. She couldn't believe she had left the mansion without remarking the bad weather. If she had paid a little more attention, she would have thought twice before leaving on a whim. Her bedroom would have made a better refuge, a drier one.

"I'll remember for next time," she mumbled under her breath.

Because there would be a next time, it would last as long as the matter wasn't settled, and that wasn't going to happen soon. The matter, her powers, had been a curse since her birth, even if she had been allowed to live normally for some years, her fate had been written since the very beginning. She wouldn't be allowed to touch. She was meant to forget all about that sensation, that pleasure. She was fated to go through life alone, unable to share her everyday life.

Her hands balled into fists. She was sentenced to a life of solitude as well as loneliness. Nobody would ever understand how she felt, and because of that, nobody would ever remain by her side. Little by little, they would leave her, even her closest friends, she could feel Kitty distancing herself, others had already and others would follow. She couldn't blame them though, she was the only one at fault, continually keeping them at bay in spite of all their efforts.

She should let them get close, they couldn't understand, but their attempts to were an undeniable proof of their sincere friendship. She should cherish them as much as she was able to, she knew it, then why was she running away once more? Habit. Pure stupidity.

She slowed down a little. The Goth teen had been a strong protection, neither good nor bad – both allowing her to bear up in spite of what life had had in store for her, and isolating her from, well, from the rest of the world. Perhaps time had come to give up that façade, to grow up. She couldn't stay a teen forever, at eighteen, becoming an adult was probably the best option, the most appealing too.

'But could someone really mature only because they want it?' she wondered. Would she be able to come back to the Institute, apologize to everyone, and begin anew, thus stopping the infernal circle?

She came to a stop. How would they react?

'They will be delighted, and welcome you with open arms,' a little voice whispered in her mind. It was the truth. They were her friends, her family. They would come back to her as soon as she gave them a sign.

Face up to the sky, Rogue let the rain wash away her tears. Rogue, a name she had chosen years ago, she doubted she would ever abandon it, besides she would still need an alias for the X-men.

"Marie," she weakly murmured. Would it be hard to get used to it again? "Marie," she repeated. No idea. It was strange to say it by herself, hearing it from another mouth might be totally different.

"Marie."

She shivered.

"Marie."

Warmth spread through her body.

"Marie."

Oh god, such a beautiful drawl with a sensual southern accent, why was her mind choosing that somehow familiar voice as an example?

"Marie."

She frowned, face still up to the sky. It was her mind which was playing with her, wasn't it? She had been alone when she had closed her eyes, hadn't she?

"Look at me."

She didn't. Recognition falling on her, she squeezed her eyelids shut hard.

"Marie, s'il te plaît."

His tone was tender, pleading, she could detect no trace of cockiness or mischievousness. He wasn't here tonight to start a fight, or to play, he was there for her, for them.

Rogue took a deep shaky breath. She had also tried to push him away, him more forcefully than the others.

'Because you want him closer than anybody else.'

He had chase after the Goth teen, would an adult Marie still attract him? Would he be pleased by the change? Or would he finally go away, disappointed that the game was over?

'If you want to know, you have to move. Come on, letting the cowardice aside will be your first step towards adulthood.'

She took another deep breath and slowly turned around. There was still a chance for him to be a pure product of her imagination – of her craziness – but that hope disappeared when her eyes settled on him. Remy Lebeau was staring at her, not caring about the rain drenching his trench coat, sticking his hair to his face.

His beautiful red on black eyes immediately locked with hers, those magnificent orbs, vibrant with sincerity, with... could she dare think it, hope it?

"Marie," he stretched a gloved hand out, "you're going to be sick. Viens."

"Why do you use that name?" she murmured.

"It's your name."

Rogue shook her head. "Nobody knows it," she retorted.

"I know all about you, chère."

She felt tears gather up to the corners of her eyes - she was getting too much emotional tonight. "Remy I... I... I have enough of... I mean..."

She stopped, she could think about her decision, about her will to change, but expressing it wasn't as simple as she would have wished. She knew it would be hard, you could decide to change, but it wouldn't happen in a second. She would have to make efforts, lots of, and do her best. Would she be able to stick to her words?

Remy took a step forward, not more. He had learnt to be patient with her, he would get closer and closer until she allowed him to stand directly by her side. It was the same for her fears, he would erase them little by little.

"Marie, what do you want to do?" he gently asked. "Don't think about the others, you, only you, who do you want to be?"

Rogue freed her tears – or did they free themselves? - who did she want to be? Rogue, the lonely Goth teen, or Marie, the mutant, the young woman who needed to, and could be, surrounded by friends?

"Just tell me chère." Remy came closer.

Suddenly Rogue realised she was wrong, understanding went further than going through exactly the same things. Her friends could understand her, her pains, her obstacles, because they had their own. She was not the only one to suffer, but she belonged to those who didn't go ahead, who complained, but didn't fight. The pity she felt for herself, the unjustified anger she directed towards the rest of the world, had blinded her.

"I want... I want to... I will control them, I swear but... but..." she stammered. Remy took another step forward, if she also stretched her hand, she could touch him. "But... it seems so... so far away... almost... almost impossible..." Rogue didn't even try to hold back her sobs. "I want... I crave for touch!"

Her tone broke Remy's heart. It contained so much desperation, sadness, pain... how could she bear it alone? It didn't stop to amaze him to see her able to stand by herself with such burdening feelings weighing on her shoulders.

"Remy will be there chère, crois-moi, always by your side," he gently whispered, somehow afraid to scare her if he talked too loud.

Rogue stared at his hand through her tears. As much as she had pushed him away, Remy had never left her side, not once since he had joined the X-men. No matter when, no matter where, he was always there, hiding in the shadows, attentive to her lesser expressions, more than anyone else he was able to detect when she needed company – very often contrary to what you could think. Then, he would let his presence be known, he would lit a cigarette for her to smell him, make something blow for her to hesitate between laughing or scowling, or simply appear in front of her, locking his gaze with hers, he was there, he would always be there, if only she had seen it earlier.

Blind, she had been blinded the whole time, since her powers had awoken, she had taken it upon herself to never be able to touch, to be the cursed, the damned, the Rogue. Had she once thought she could try to improve her situation? Had she once wondered over her situation further than over the fact she couldn't touch? No, not even once. She had friends, a home, a family. She had all many would kill for and yet, she had never realised it. It would be hard to blame her though, after all isn't it normal for humans to focus the most on what they couldn't have? A flaw centuries would surely not be enough to erase. But a flaw, once it had been acknowledged, could be changed, couldn't it?

Rogue's sobs weakened as she forced her breath to adopt a calmer rhythm. Could she trust the man standing in front of her, drenched by the heavy rain, hand stretched towards her? Stupid, of course she could, she would and, in fact, already did.

Her heart had, for a long time, already understood which importance Remy Lebeau truly held in her life.

She hesitantly reached for his hand.

'You can't do it alone. They are all willing to help. He is willing to help. Do not stupidly waste that chance.'

A spark of determination flashed through her eyes as she grabbed his hand. Too much time had been wasted already, and she wouldn't take the risk to wait any longer, because if she did, Remy might finally disappear. He wasn't a hero, a knight in shining armour, if she didn't encourage him at all, why would he keep trying? She squeezed his hand. She had to be honest, she needed help, his more than anybody else's.

Remy tenderly smiled at her while gently pulling her to him. He could see the apprehension in her eyes. Was she ready to grow up? Was she ready to give up all those barriers she had kept up for so many years?

"Oui, you are," he murmured, answering her silent questions.

He was looking straightly at her, not searching to hide his feelings from her.

"Won't you get tired of me?" her voice was barely above a whisper, but her eyes remained firmly locked with his.

Weak and strong at the same time, determined and hesitant, eager and scared, Rogue was a paradox. A paradox Remy couldn't even imagine growing tired of.

"Jamais chère. Jamais."

The End.

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><p>Some translations<p>

Crois-moi - believe me

Oui - Yes

Jamais - Never


End file.
